


Doubles Partners

by AlynnaStrong



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Competition, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Femslash February 2018, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderswap, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Tennis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 04:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13826679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlynnaStrong/pseuds/AlynnaStrong
Summary: Brienne, a junior member of the tennis team, visits fem!Jaime in the hospital when all the others have deserted her.





	Doubles Partners

**Author's Note:**

> Jaime is gender swapped. Why? Mainly because I wanted Jaime and Brienne to be in competition for slots on the same team, and while I realize that some teams are co-ed, I didn’t want to bring any fragile masculinity into it. Also, it lets me squeeze in one more femslash this February.

Brienne shyly peeked into Jaime’s hospital room. The star of the Crownland High tennis team lay in bed, looking bored and restless. Probably she wouldn’t even want Brienne here. Jaime is a junior, locally famous, popular, and pretty. Whereas Brienne is a mere froshling, and new to the area besides. When she’d made the tennis team (as an alternate, but still impressive for a frosh), Brienne fantasized that they’d become friends, but reality had to intrude. Jaime already had an abundance of friends, and anyway, what could the gorgeous, rich girl see in the overgrown, ugly underclassman with the Stormlands accent?

Brienne had nearly convinced herself to leave without saying hello when some movement of hers drew Jaime’s attention.

“Is that you, Too Tall? You’ll need a bigger door than that if you want to hide your whole deal,” Jaime said. She tried to gesture an all-encompassing whirl in Brienne’s direction but was brought up short by the sling on her right arm. For at least the 50th time today, she had to abort a planned action and flop back into bed.

“H-Hi!” Brienne said. “I thought you might like something to brighten up your room.” She placed the small potted Summer Island violet on the windowsill where it could get some light. The desk and tables were crowded with more elaborate bouquets anyway.

“Thanks,” Jaime nodded. How like the strange girl to bring an actual plant she’d have to take care of until she accidentally killed it rather than something she could just leave behind. At least she visited in person rather than merely sending flowers. Once Jaime’s family had heard that the injury was in no way life-threatening, they’d decided to let the doctors handle it. Her other teammates should have visited as well, but they were still cross with her for getting injured the day before a tournament. Did they really expect her to get a new motorcycle for her nameday and not take it for a spin just because of a little rain? It wasn’t like she crashed on purpose.

“Okay, well, goodbye. I hope you feel better soon!” Brienne said, striding back toward the door.

“Wait! Where are you going so fast? You haven’t even told me about the tournament.” Jaime had held the lead singles spot on the tennis team since sophomore year. Brienne moved up to the third and final competitive slot after Jaime’s injury. It’d been her first tournament; surely she had something to say.

“Oh.” Brienne hadn’t thought Jaime wanted to talk, and she didn’t mean to brag, but then again, Jaime did just ask. “Um, I won the singles. Lysa and I only made it to the quarterfinals in doubles, though.”

“You won? As a freshman? Not bad.”

“It was just a district tourney. Only important for the school’s qualifying points for regionals. You would have crushed it.” She had beaten a senior from Duskendale in the finals, a Targaryen no less, which had felt like a satisfying tournament debut.

“I would have, but you did. Must have been someone you’d never played before who didn’t know how to deal with your snarling face. And those grunts – KAA-KEI!!” Jaime teased, her mouth running away as it often did.

Brienne’s cheeks flushed in recognition of Jaime’s flawless impersonation. She resisted every effort of her coaches to get her to act more ladylike on court. They could mock her if they wanted; she was effective.

“I suppose you’d like your privacy now. I just wanted to let you know we were thinking of you this weekend,” Brienne said.

“Hang on, you haven’t told me what happened in the doubles,” Jaime said, a little desperately. She’d had nothing but privacy all weekend. Company, even from Brienne, was quite welcome.

“I don’t know,” Brienne shrugged. “Lysa and I never quite seem to be on the same page. She blames me for every missed point, but-”

“We never clicked either, to be honest,” Jaime nodded her understanding, then smiled. “You should have seen me and Cersei, though. It was… telepathy.” The first three times Cersei had been busted for underage drinking, the incidents had been swept under the rug. The last time, when poor Melara Hetherspoon had ended up in a coma for two days, the school had no choice but to expel her.

“Anyway, we earned enough points that when you come back, you two will be able to compete at regionals,” Brienne said.

“If,” Jaime muttered.

“What? It’s a sprain, you’ll be fine by the end of the week,” Brienne said. If they were better friends, Brienne would have called her a drama queen. Really, a weekend hospitalization was way over the top for a sprain.

“They saw something else on the x-ray. A not-great looking shadow around my shoulder. If it’s blood, then my rotator cuff is torn. That would mean I’m out for the year, maybe forever.” Jaime took a cleansing breath. She’d said it out loud.

“I’m sure that’s not what it is,” Brienne said. She leaned close and took Jaime’s left hand. “You’re going to be just fine.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had a medical degree. How comforting,” Jaime lashed out, pulling away. “Spare me your platitudes. If I’m out for the year, your spot is secure. No more striving to topple Lysa Arryn or Randi Tarly to make the top three.”

“I’m sorry. Obviously I’m doing you no good here. I’ll go,” Brienne said, feeling hurt that Jaime could think her so callous.

At that moment, Dr. Pycelle, Jaime’s primary physician, entered the room. Her alert eyes made her look young despite the long white ponytail trailing down her back. “Ms. Lannister, I have the results of your MRI.”

“I was just leaving,” Brienne said, and stood to do so but found Jaime’s hand clamped around her wrist.

“It’s okay. You can stay,” Jaime said. She didn’t care who else was there; she just didn’t want to be alone. She wished it could have been Cersei or even her father. Tyrion would have been able to make her laugh no matter what. Lancel would have talked about the gods’ will. It didn’t matter. Just something to take her mind off blaming herself. Brienne would do. She could watch her broad, homely face celebrate Jaime’s misfortune and then be justified in rooting against her for the rest of the season.

Dr. Pycelle brought over a tablet so Jaime could see the images. She played the results of the MRI, pointing out the shadows. “So, it’s all good news, Ms. Lannister. It was only inflammation. You’ll perhaps want to cut your practices a little shorter for the next few weeks, but you’ll be back on the courts in no time.” The doctor gave her a brisk pat on the arm and departed.

Jaime’s mind seemed to freeze, then slowly stuttered back to life. That was not – at all – what she’d expected to hear. She looked over at Brienne and found her face transformed by a huge smile. Tears of joy spilled out of the corners of her eyes. “Did you hear that, Jaime? You’re fine. I told you you’d be fine, didn’t I?”

She watched, dumbfounded, as Brienne celebrated Jaime's good fortune, the good fortune that meant Brienne was off the competition roster.

“Come closer,” Jaime said. As Brienne bent over, Jaime wiped a tear from the side of her face. She tried to cup her hands around her cheeks and pull her in for an impulsive kiss, but for the godsdamned 51st time today, her sling got in the way. She settled for leaning their foreheads together. “I want you to be my partner,” she said.

Brienne’s lovely eyes widened.

Jaime grinned, wondering why she’d never noticed Brienne’s eyes before. Now they were all she could think about.

“My doubles partner. Screw Lysa and Randi both. Neither one is a good team player. You are. I think we can go all the way. I can show you how to beat them for a singles slot, if you need me to sweeten the deal. Just call Lysa by her sister’s name, and she’ll start spraying unforced errors. Randi already hates you because, unlike with most people, she can’t dominate you with brute strength. Double down on your serve, and she’ll get frustrated.”

“I’d have to think about it.” Brienne pulled back to put some distance between herself and Jaime’s intensity.

“Whatever for? Come on, it will work. I can feel it.” Maybe as well as before, with Cersei. Hells, maybe better. For all Cersei’s skill, they had essentially been the same player with the same strengths and weaknesses. Brienne would bring an entirely new set of options for the game plan.

Brienne knew that Jaime would never understand how being around her would be slow torture. Every day, to be so near and yet so far from touching her fair glowing skin, her golden wavy hair, her soft red lips, and to know they would never be closer. She’d never see Brienne as a romantic potential. Hells, she’d probably be affronted at the very idea.

“I don’t think I can,” Brienne said.

“Of course you can. You’re good enough, I promise. You know I made the team as a freshman, right? The more I think about it, the more I believe you have the chops for that too. All you need is confidence in your abilities.”

Brienne hung her head. She wasn’t getting out of this without humiliation, apparently. “I do have faith in myself. Being your partner… I thought you were going to kiss me a minute ago. I’m freaking out about that, and I guess you wouldn’t understand why.” It would have been her first kiss. Not that anyone would have believed Jaime Lannister would kiss her, of course. (Not that she would have told anyone either; well, anyone but Pod).

“What? You don’t find me attractive? Or you don’t play on that side of the net? It’s fine; we can just be partners on the team,” Jaime said.

Brienne had to laugh. “Are you joking? Of course I think you’re beautiful, but am I really your… type?”

“You’re here. No, don’t be upset; that came out wrong. I meant, you’re the only one who’s here; the only one who visited all weekend. Call me selfish, but yes, someone with that much love to give is definitely my type.” Jaime often felt like she was expected to dispense dutiful familial affection without anticipating anything in return. Like a cactus, she’d learned to store away and savor any drops that fell down on her. Then this girl from the Stormlands walks in…

“We can try the kiss again if you promise not to slap me with those racquet-sized hands,” Jaime added more lightly.

Brienne walked over as daintily as she could in her size 14 shoes. “I would never hurt you,” she whispered. Jaime mumbled something about 52, then shucked off her sling.

Their lips touched: soft, sweet, and new. It marked the beginning of a doubly successful partnership.

 


End file.
